


Ruby

by BrazenMonkey



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:37:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrazenMonkey/pseuds/BrazenMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can feel the malicious grin against her skin. “But you like it.”</p>
<p>She wishes he was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruby

**Author's Note:**

> Writers block is a bitch and I needed to get this out of my system. I have written for this fandom over on ffnet, but I have not picked up a pen for this particular pairing - but still my OTP to end all OTPs - in ages, so bear with me, I might be a little rusty.
> 
> Angsty/emotional short cut about what Loki leaves Darcy with after a night's stay.
> 
> ConCrit is highly appreciated!

Morning light shines through the leaves of the trees outside, while the sound of the traffic flares though the room. In front of her large mirror, Darcy Lewis examines her choice of clothing for today.

 

Her reflection is that of a young woman, in her twenties, full-bodied and voluptuous, with wide hips, large breasts and a slightly rounded stomach. At least that is what she keeps telling herself, to boost her confidence.

 

The shallow wrinkles of worry that stretch across her forehead mirror her confusion at what she sees. With calm precision she first pulls off her thin-knit grey cardigan, then the black top she had worn underneath is dropped unceremoniously to the floor as well. All that is left is her bare upper half in a black bra that almost modestly displays her curves. Dark hair covers milky skin.

 

What her clothing could not hide is now fully displayed and at the mercy of her eyes: An uneven pattern of scarlet dots that mark the soft skin of her cleavage, peppered from the base to the light brown tips of her breasts. She is marked, claimed, _his_. The angry red spots almost scream at the woman wearing them.

 

She doesn’t know whether to love them or to scrub herself until they are gone. Not that scrubbing would help in any way, but just to know that she is herself, in her own, clean and unmarked skin again.

 

She wants to love them because she may actually be in love with the man who gave them to her.

 

She might want to see them gone to forget about said love.

 

_She can feel him harden in between her legs as he lifts his head to bury his face in between her bare breast, one hand caressing her naked waist as his mouth finds purchase on the soft tissue of her cleavage. His open-mouthed kissed burn into her skin and settle in the marrow of her bones. When his lips enclose her swollen nipple, she lets her jaw drop in a soft sigh. She arches her back to give him better access and he takes it as an invitation to fully suck at the puckered bud, so much that it hurts._

_“Softer…” she pants, torn between the pleasure and the pain._

_She can feel the malicious grin against her skin. “But you like it.”_

_She wishes he was wrong._

 

Darcy sighs and traces the evidence of Loki on herself. The other sores she can almost ignore, but this, this only mark he has left on her, disrupts her reflection. Her fingertips graze her inflamed skin and the phantom hurt of last night’s bliss still rings inside her.

 

This mark tells a lie to the unknowing mind. It speaks of a couple, madly in love, unable to let the other be, two people who want to paint their pleasure on each other’s body. It looks like something to be embarrassedly covered by the person wearing them while still secretly being cherished as a token of affection.

 

it is neither to her. No embarrassment for there is no-one she could tell, no need to cherish something that reminds her of an affection that is not hers to cherish.

 

An aggressive car horn pulls her from her musing. With a sigh and a shaky mask of indifference, she pulls another less low-cut top from her drawers.

 

Time to get dressed.


End file.
